​61 Countries. 90km. 20,000 runners. 1 Race - The Comrades Marathon.

Standing at the start as the last strains of Chariots of Fire fade away sends tingles of excitement mingled with trepidation down my spine. I’m surrounded by so many different people - old, young, large, small, talented, untalented, tall, short - yet all with one goal - to finish the race that means everything. Many have been called crazy to even try this. Many have been been warned of the dangers. Yet we stand together, determined but humble.

A loud boom signals the start, as we set out on the race of a lifetime.

From the sun rising on a new day to the burning heat of the midday sun, this brave cohort of runners marches on. Over hills and through valleys. Relentless. Determined. A Comrade from the past watches from the side. His race is now over, but his words of encouragement still making a difference.

Kilometres more. Sweat. Cramps. Nausea. Pain.

An elderly white man stumbles. A loud thud as he hits the road. Immediately a young black runner is there to help him up. No thought of colour or talent. One race. One goal.

Kilometres more. Sweat. Cramps. Nausea. Pain.

Loud sounds of retching from a young coloured girl vomiting on the side of the road. Her race taken from her. A white lady stops. Fumbles in her pouch, and tenderly whispers to her, handing her something to give her hope.

Kilometres more. Sweat. Cramps. Nausea. Pain.

Then there it is! The stadium. The spectators' cheers are deafening. My heart bursting with joy. Arm in arm we cross the finish line together - old, young, large, small, fit, unfit, tall, weak…61 Countries. 90km. 20,000 runners. 1 Race.

The commentator celebrates - Viva Comrades, Viva South Africa.

11 Languages. 9 Provinces. 50 million people. 1 country - South Africa.

Standing at the start as the last strains of N'Kosi Sikeleli fade away sends tingles of excitement mingled with trepidation down my spine. I’m surrounded by so many different people - old, young, black, white, able, disabled, rich, poor - yet all with one goal - to become the new South Africa that means everything. Many have been called crazy to even try this. Many have been warned of the dangers. Yet we stand together, determined but humble.

A loud cheer signals the start, as we set out on the journey of a lifetime.

From the sun rising on a new nation to the burning issues of a new democracy, this cohort of brave citizens marches on. Over troubles and through despair. Relentless. Determined. A comrade from the past watches from the side. His journey is now over, but his words of encouragement still making a difference.

Years more. Violence. Protests. Scandals. Crime.

A rich white businessman crashes his car. A loud smash as he hits the barrier. Immediately a young black student is there to help him out. No thought of race or status. One country. One goal.

Years more. Violence. Protests. Scandals. Crime

Loud sounds of wailing from a young coloured girl crying on the side of the road. Her purse stolen from her. A white lady stops. Fumbles in her bag, and tenderly whispers to her, handing her something to give her hope. No thought of race or status. One country. One goal.

Years more. Violence. Protests. Scandals. Crime

Then there it is! The dream. The worlds' cheers are deafening. My heart bursting with joy. Arm in arm we become the new South Africa together - old, young, black, white, able, disabled, rich, poor…11 Languages. 9 Provinces. 50 million people. 1 Country.

The world celebrates - Viva comrades. Viva South Africa.
​

"Stop running!"

There is one thing I believe and that is keep on moving forward in a race. Never stop. You can walk, in fact you should walk, but never stop. Never! And so how did I find myself sitting on a crash barrier on the side of the road at about the 70km mark in the Comrades marathon?

I suppose I could say it was the 30C heat and blasting desert-like wind. I suppose I could say it was the utter fatigue. I suppose I could say it was being in "no mans land" - that space far enough into the run to be exhausted, but far enough before the end to think you are nearly there. All of these are reasons, but still I have never before stopped, net alone sat down. It's a definite "no no" to sit in a race. I've seen people do it and never recover, and I passed many sitting on that day, hundreds in fact. Some even lying on their back with only 2km to go.

Yet there I was, sitting on the crash barrier, seemingly enjoying my Sunday afternoon watching the runners stream past. Why did I do it? There is no doubt I had fatigue, but despite all this I could have just pushed on harder. Yet something in our running easy philosophy called to me. "Try Easier". And so I decided I would reward myself with a 60 second "time out". I would sit on the crash barrier and imagine for a moment I was refreshing, resetting, renewing, as the runners went past. I would "try easier" not harder. And for just a moment I relaxed, I tried to reset.

One minute later I began walking, and a minute or so later I was running again. No, I did not feel like the race had just begun, let's be realistic - I'd been running for over 9 hours, my body is not that stupid that the brain can trick it like that. But I did feel a lot better. I felt like I had been rewarded for what I had done. I had a new resolve, a determination, and my muscles had received a small respite.

So...would I recommend this? Yes and No! It really is a high risk strategy. You could cramp if you sit. You might not have the resolve to continue on. You sit too long...so many risks, However if you feel like you are reaching the end of your strength, then rather take a break. But before you do make a deal with yourself as to how long it will be. I would not suggest more than one minute...and stick to the deal. Thereafter stand and imagine you are feeling much better. Rejoice in the reward you received and the greater one coming later. Then walk a bit to warm your muscles and slow return to running.

I suppose it's like music - without the gaps between the notes there would be no music!

Yours in running easy,
Craig

One of the things I have really had issues with in running is being able to stay hydrated. I am normally OK for anything up until a marathon mark, but that is because I am finished within just over 4 hours. The problem comes in the ultramarathons, and particularly the 11+ hour Comrades marathon.

Typically I start drinking well, trying to make sure I take something to drink every 20 minutes or so as I reach the water tables. However after about 3 hours of this I feel like my stomach is full of water and I don't feel like drinking. This feeling does not go away, and so I begin to dehydrate. The result in previous Comrades is that I have ended up in the medical tent, on a drip, dehydrated. My mouth is parched, I'm depserately thirsty, but I just can't drink. What in the world is going on?

Thankfully I heard about Prof. Tim Noakes and his research on hydration (see link to right for his book). I read his book and contacted him and discovered a simple truth. Drinking to drinking plans is not right. We must drink to thirst and we will be fine. The body tells us what we need and when we need it. You have been listening to your body all your life, why do we suddenly stop listening to it when it comes to running? And so for Comrades 2013, in the "hottest Comrades in living memory" I put his theory to the test, I drank only when I was thirsty.

The result? I finished feeling fully hydrated. No medical tent. No dry mouth. Nothing! It was truly amazing, and more evidence - for myself at least - that Prof. Noakes' method, which is now finally accepted by researchers, is the best way to go. I really encourage others to follow his wisdom, based on research, and not be taken by media hype and sports drink companies with profit-fuelled agendas.

Check out the video below where Prof. Noakes shares 3 really interesting beliefs that need to be challenged, including how we drink.

On Sunday I ran my eighth 90km/56mi Comrades Marathon but my first time testing the new Pebble smart watch on such a long distance. So how did the Pebble with the RunKeeper app handle a 12 hour, 90km race run in extreme 30+C conditions?

Firstly I realised that my iPhone 5 battery was not likely to last the entire 12 hours, especially if I had live tracking on. So I bought a 2800mAh external battery backup Power Bank cover that I slipped onto my phone to give it extended life. This worked amazingly well, and I ended the day with 50% batter power. However as the drama of the day would have it, I forgot to turn life tracking on at the start of the race, so was not losing additional power on internet activity. I could do nothing about it afterwards without restarting my RunKeeper workout - which would have messed all my race times. So it would be nice if RunKeeper had a way to turn on Live Tracking at any stage, even if an activity has been started. So friends and family were left to follow my progress via SMS updates sent via timing mats or using "Find my iPhone".

SO HOW DID IT GO?
For some reason my RunKeeper displays a strange block when displaying the distance on the Pebble. So instead of 10:27 it shows a block, as depicted alongside. This is a minor annoyance. What I am a little disappointed with, considering I really am a big fan of RunKeeper, is there support. As an "elite" customer (you pay to be elite), I reported this to them on May 15 (now 3 weeks ago) and have not heard anything from them!

Also I found as the distance got higher and higher it started to drop the decimal numbers and displayed, for example, 63:...km. However, this too was not a big deal as I mainly needed my pace, time and distance.

HOWEVER, at about the 70km mark...my brain is a little fuzzy of the exact distance due to pain and suffering, disaster struck! All of a sudden the RunKeeper app stopped displaying on my watch. I was suddenly without any information. I could of course have tried to look at my iPhone, but that is not a realistic option at this stage. Fatigue is so great that attempting to do this is just not feasible. So I was stuck with only the time of day and the distance markers on the course. This was nearly my undoing. With about 15km to go I realised that I could not, as with previous years, walk and finish, I would have to in fact do quite a lot of running in the final part. Not a thought I relished. And so the last part became an intense battle against fatigue, nausea, and blasting hot winds to reach the end.

THE VERDICT
This is new technology. I was so pleased that my Pebble arrived literally 2 weeks before the big event AND RunKeeper integration happened at about the same time. The timing was awesome, but the technology new.

There is still quite a bit of work to be done to make the integration of RunKeeper and Pebble robust. Besides the strange display and going off near the end, it also would not let me start and pause, which it has always done. Race day nerves for the app?

In terms of the Pebble watch - Pebble Rocks! One of the BEST things was being able to see text messages from friends and family on my watch during the run. You are too tired to grab your phone and read them but I could see their messages as I was running and this made a huge difference. It would have been nice if Facebook messages had also come through, but again this integration does not seem to work properly.

The future of Pebble + RunKeeper + SMS + Facebook + Other is amazing for running. It's still not stable and while cutting edge technos, like myself, love it, for the rest you might want to wait a few more months for the dust to settle and the shiny pebbles to emerge.

...and I finished...just, with about 7 minutes to spare! Crazy...until number 9!

Yours in running easy
Craig

We have always told you that Running Easy is about "try easier". And this normally means putting in lots of walks. In fact our philosophy is "Walk BEFORE you are tired" NOT "Walk BECAUSE you are tired". 

This was so true on the epic 88km Comrades Marathon this past Sunday. We following our normal running easy training approach, and arrived at the race day feeling fit, uninjured and ready for the task. HOWEVER - while all the days prior to this, and the forecast for Monday were all cool, today dawned baking hot.

The day would soar to temperatures around 30C but made much worse by a blasting hot wind blowing directly into us as we ran. It was so hot that every 10 minutes, after completely drenching myself in water, I'd have to do it again as I'd be bone dry.

There was only one way to approach this - and that was walk more, hold back, conserve energy. And that is exactly what we did. We walked much more, and ran much more in the first half, only coming into halfway (44km) in about 5h30. Quite a bit slower than we normally would. And even then the second half of this "ultimate human race" would prove to be extremely tough. In fact near the end as the 12 hour cutoff loomed I had to push more and more. Thankfully I had some reserves to call on unlike thousands of runners who collapsed along the road. If I had not approached this in a running easy way, I'm certain I would not have made it. But thankfully I squeaked in with just over 5 minutes to spare and joined 8,000 others who finished, while sadly 4,000 never made it.

The lesson - and I too need to keep learning it, hold back, try easier, and you can go so much further!

Comrades 2013 is now over....and it was my hardest so far. The running conditions were, to quote the veterans - "the worst in living memory" - with hot temperatures and driving hot wind. I would like to thank the many, many people who supported both Nicky and I on Sunday. We received so many messages on the day, and all of this is truly appreciated.

As for now I can relax again, stare at my blackened toenails, and nurse my sore muscles - but all of this feels good have accomplished Comrades number 8. 

Just 2 more and then maybe I can take running life a little easier and stick to marathons and more "normal" things ;-)

Thanks everyone....your support was amazing!

The start was dark, but the tension was palpable as we stood waiting for the gun that would herald the start of our 56km Two Oceans race. The gun sounded…and we stood, and stood, and stood…before breaking into a slow walk, shuffle, walk, shuffle, jog, and finally run. 9,000 runners were off on the most “world’s most beautiful marathon”.

As the early part of the race winds through small towns lined with shops, we developed the pavement dash. Darting off the clogged road we’d fly down the pavements – even getting in a chance to do some early morning window-shopping. Yet, before too long the twisting snake of humanity began to stretch out and the race was on. It was just before reaching Muizenberg that we spotted him – unmistakable in his poise, professional and easy style, and surrounded by other greats.

The king of Comrades, Bruce Fordyce was just ahead of us. This was our chance. Throwing caution to the wind we increased our pace and came “flying” past him. What euphoria – we’d passed the legend himself. But of course Bruce would not be so easily overcome, and a few minutes later- obviously trying to break us with an early surge – he came past us once again. Yet, we were not to be beaten. This was our day, and once more we drew from deep within, and surged past Bruce again. This time it would be final…as we clang to our precarious lead over peak and through bays till with joy we crossed the line to claim our place in the halls of fame!

OK…so maybe it was not quite like that. When we first passed Bruce he was nonchalantly chatting to the great Noel Stamper – another legend who has completed 41 Two Oceans marathons. I also overheard someone saying Bruce had run a marathon the week before in like 57 minutes or something. And of course, I never mentioned to Bruce that there was a race. And maybe Bruce was aiming for a blue medal to complete his collection. And on I could go. But this is the amazing thing with running. Ordinary people can run with legends. Ordinary people can participate in an event with people like Bruce and Noel. Ordinary people can be in the same race as the super athletes who win the event in mind-blowing times.

Ordinary people can be Heroes.

As we lumbered slowly up the energy and soul-draining Constantia Nek we came up behind a runner with 75 pinned to his shirt! That means he is 75 years old, or more! Unbelievable, so inspiring. If only I can be like him at that age. And here we are running in the same race with him, running in the same race with legend after legend. There is no other sport that lets you experience this quite like running.

And then the moment of pure exhilaration, where words fail – as roads thick with cheering supporters scream, and sing, and shout out your name as we approach the finish. The flood of music, the commentators voice, the television cameras, the rising crescendo of cheering fans, as we run down the final stretch to the finish line. It is an Olympic stadium in everyway. Punching the air in achievement, we leap across the finish line, and with bursting hearts, face-splitting smiles, we receive our medals. Wow, we’ve done it. We’ve run with legends and felt like heroes. We’re Ordinary Heroes…and there is no better feeling!

Also Published on Runners World - http://comrades.runnersworld.co.za/beating-bruce/

31 December….tick, tick, tick…1 Jan 2011

All of a sudden, just minutes later, from blissful carefreeness, Comrades appears big and bold on the radar. OK, Not so big…or so bold yet, as we are still recovering from the late night as we bade farewell to the awesome 2010. Wow South Africa, you rock…or maybe it should be you vuuuv!

So, it’s now time to think about Comrades 2011. Being a GRE number runner, that’s halfway to the magical GREEN, it seems like just a few years ago that it all started. Oh, I suppose it was only a few years ago. But the love that started it all makes it seem like only a moment. It was our anniversary, and being a real romantic I knew I had to come up with a winner. Not flowers (too cliched), not chocolates (too fattening), not diamonds (too expensive)…of course, it’s obvious, the perfect romantic gift – a book on how to run your first marathon. Why had I not thought of it before; the gift that keeps on giving. Aah, I remember the tear of joy in Nicky’s eye as she unwrapped her gift. And as they say, the rest is history.

OK, I’ve had to improve on the quality of my romantic expressions, but that gift started an amazing journey. A journey of self-discovery, achievement, adventure, and experiences beyond what we could ever have imagined. After 16 weeks of training we stood at the start of our first marathon. Someone had forgotten to tell us to bring a snorkel and a wetsuit as the rain bucketed down. But we literally danced in the rain as we ran our very first marathon. It was amazing. But, with firm resolve, Nicky said she had achieved her goal and she would not run further. Six months later we stood, packed like smoked snoek at the start of our first Two Oceans 56km ultramarathon. Maybe it’s my good looks, or maybe it’s my flattering persuasion…or maybe it’s that my wife is just awesome…but whatever it was, we experienced the “world’s most beautiful marathon”.

It was amazing. It was beautiful. It was epic…Oh yes, and it was sore too…but that’s forgotten when sitting on a rock, sharing stories, sipping sparkling wine while witnessing God’s brush of pink and orange and red on the canvas of the sky. “But of course you realise Craig, I’m not running Comrades!”

“Yeah…More wine, dear?”

“Eish, it’s cold for Durbs! I never knew it could be this cold.” The smell of Deep Heat mingled with the nervous and excited chatter of the runners. Soon a wave of emotion washed over the 12,000 tightly huddled runners, as the epic, stirring music of Chariots of Fire swept all conversation away. Moments later the iconic sound of the rooster pierced the air followed by a loud boom, startling flocks of dozing pigeons. Comrades 2005 had begun…our first, and most amazing running journey ever.

It’s called the “ultimate human race” – but only those who do it really know this. Being part of a tide of humanity flowing up and down hills, all with a common end, all with common pains, all with common fears, all with a common bond – is just incredible. And then comes the moment when you enter the stadium. There are few runners, that trained for, that imagined, that journey to, that prayed for this moment, who will not feel the indescribable emotion as you set foot on the grass of the stadium. The cacophony of the announcers booming encouragement, the music, the cheering supporters, the recognition of loved ones, draws the weary runner, in a euphoric dream to that line and the medal beyond. And then finally…finally after 10 hours and 32 minutes we stop moving. But our world continues to move…on and on and on. A race had ended but a journey had begun – running for the pure love of it – whether the world’s most beautiful marathon or the ultimate human race – whether the familiar roads of our suburb or the dusty tracks of a game reserve.

And so, Comrades 2011 will see us joining thousands of others, huddled together in our human pens, nervously chatting as we ponder the epic adventure for the 6th time. All that remains is to shake off the festive fat that is clinging tenaciously to my waist like an unborn twin as we set off on our journey towards the ultimate human race.



Also published on Runners World - http://comrades.runnersworld.co.za/come-come-comrades-by-craig-blewett/

The dust has hardly settled on Comrades 2010 and Comrades 2011 entries are open. In fact if I look down at my toes as I type this, the reminder of the epic 89km journey at the end of May are still visible. Two toenails have leaped off and there are at least another two hanging toenaciously on in a futile attempt to cling to life.

And yet now entries for Comrades 2011 have been opened. Last year was a huge success with nearly 20,000 people running the 89km epic ultra marathon form Pietermaritzburg to Durban. And what a race it was. The weather was perfect – cool but not wet. The support as usual lined nearly the entire 89km route. The organisation was smooth. The comradeship (which is what it is about after all) was epic. It’s an epic event, that requires and epic effort, but you are rewarded with the most unbelievable feeling when you enter the stadium. Having now completed 5 Comrades (nothing compared to some who have done 40+), I am still blown away by the feeling of running into the stadium. The cheering, the music, the smiles, the surge of emotion makes many a man cry with joy.

And so now Comrades 2011 entries are open. This year it works slightly different to last year with entries being open to everyone (not just previous finishers first). Anyone from South Africa or Internationally can enter, even before qualifying. HOWEVER entries close on the end of November or as soon as 18,000 entries are received. And remember last year? The 5,000 spaces that went in 40 hours. SO DO NOT WAIT!

So, if you are even vaguely considering doing Comrades next year, then enter – they will not open extra spaces, even if you do the haka mixed with a moon walk in nothing but your skin!

So go here (http://ping.fm/t6NmR) now and enter or visit their website (http://www.comrades.com) – BUT don’t wait till tomorrow – remember tomorrow all beers are free…but that is tomorrow, tomorrow…

See you on the road…and hopefully in Comrades 2011 – the most epic race on the planet!

Yours in Running Easy…
Craig